


Love and Fear

by TurtleTotem



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [19]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Boggarts, M/M, Mirror of Erised, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 14:29:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11785098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTotem/pseuds/TurtleTotem
Summary: Based on a tumblr post I can't find: What if someone's boggart and what they saw in the Mirror of Erised were the same? (Story on tumblrhere.)





	Love and Fear

Hank had been sneaking through the dark corridors of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters for the last several nights, to see the mirror he had found in the empty classroom—the Mirror of Erised, as was proclaimed on the frame, though he had no idea what that meant. He only knew that when he looked into the glass, he saw himself, all grown up, wearing a doctor’s coat and shoes that he could tell didn’t hurt at all, with Raven Darkholme holding his hand and a lot of other people around him telling him how smart and handsome he was and how lucky they were to be his friends. Obviously it wasn’t real—Hank was, in fact, smart, though the rest was in question—but it was… it was still nice to see.

Tonight was the first time he’d found anyone _else_ at the mirror.

Professor Xavier’s chairbound profile was unmistakable. He was doing something to the mirror—covering it, Hank realized, pulling a long white cloth over it—but the cloth slipped, and Hank saw the moment that Professor Xavier made eye contact with his reflection.

Another man immediately appeared behind him in the mirror, a tall man in a leather jacket, whose face had severe features—but not a severe expression, not now. He was smiling, soft and happy and… perhaps _loving_ was a funny thought to have, but there was something about the expression that reminded Hank of the way his parents looked at each other.

Professor Xavier was transfixed, the white cloth hanging forgotten from his hand.

The man in the mirror stepped up closer behind the professor’s reflection, the smoky background of the mirror clarifying into—the gate to the school? The man looked like he was about to step through. He held out a hand, obviously hoping the professor would take it, would welcome him inside.

Professor Xavier reached for the man’s hand and knocked against cold glass. With a tiny gasp, the professor jerked out of his reverie, and threw the cloth over the mirror.

Hank backed away, unnoticed. The next night, the mirror was gone, and he never saw it again.

It wasn’t the last inexplicable thing he saw at the school, though. Of course a school for mutants had any number of odd things happening all the time, but almost a year after the disappearance of the mirror, something happened that Hank’s beloved science couldn’t explain.

The rumor was that the east wing was haunted. A number of students had encountered terrifying spectres, all apparently different, though some of the children refused to even describe what they’d seen. Hank didn’t believe any of that nonsense, and when Alex dared him to go up into the attic in the east wing, Hank’s hands didn’t shake at all. Like, even a little bit.

Until he saw the huge, hairy, fanged monster, the one whose feet were just like Hank’s and who was clearly ripping his way out of Hank’s own clothes.

If the other kids thought Hank was a weenie for running to get Professor Xavier, they could think what they wanted. Any one of them would have peed themselves in Hank’s place, he was sure.

Professor Xavier, when they finally maneuvered his chair out of the cranky old elevator into the attic, didn’t seem especially worried. “I imagine it’s a boggart,” he murmured. “This is just the sort of place they like, and with the universe slippage getting a bit looser this year—”

That was about the time they saw it—Hank’s monster. Only as soon as it saw the professor, it turned into something else entirely.

A man. The man from the mirror of Erised. He was dressed very differently—armor, and a helmet that obscured much of his face—but the expression was the same. Soft and smiling, clearly thrilled to see Professor Xavier, and eagerly holding out a hand to him. Hank couldn’t understand why the professor was frozen in fear until he saw that the outstretched hand was dripping blood.

Blood all over the armor, too, all the way down to where the man’s boots disappeared into a pile of human bodies.

Professor Xavier pulled some kind of stick out of his pocket and tried to drive the man back with it, tried over and over to say some word that seemed important, but he couldn’t look away from the man’s hand. Hank began backing away toward the elevator, and Professor Xavier followed, the stick seeming to only just keep the man out of arm’s reach.

The east wing attic stayed haunted for a long time.


End file.
